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You will die a worse death if you do not leave my domain,” a voice thundered down from the third story of the old tenement. “I am a servant of the Sacred Fire, the wielder of the flame of Arnor—” “So I should call you Gandalf?

Karen Chance

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Karen Chance
Age: 24
Born: 2000
Born: January 1
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Orlando
Florida
Leave
Domain
Fire
Flame
Call
Flames
Dies
Servant
Story
Third
Voice
Thirds
Thundered
Death
Sacred
Tenement
Stories
Worse
Tenements

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you gotta think it’s a waste of—” “Ray!” I glanced around, but there was nobody within earshot. “Well, excuse me if I’m not used to buying condoms for aliens,” he said more softly. “They’re not aliens.” “Well, they’re not human. I mean, they could have anything under those tunics, you know?
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...I ran out of stock around midnight and dropped by a place, got some Chinese. I hoped he meant takeout.
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He had the look of an atheist who’d just had a visit from God: stunned, disbelieving and faintly ill.
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I’d been declared—over my loud and sustained protests—Pythia, the chief seer of the supernatural world.
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So maybe it was just as well that my companion was more like Mulder. A coked-out Mulder with a lot of weapons, who knew that the monsters under the bed were real and would gut you.
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And why not?” “You know why! This is a bad idea.” “Perhaps I like a challenge.” “Perhaps you’re a glutton for punishment!” “Perhaps I am in love.
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They- He stopped and just blinked at me for a minute. You know, people are always saying that you're cuckoo. Looney Tunes. Off the freaking edge. But I tell 'em, no, she's okay. She's got some...anger management issues. But you know what? They're right. You're nuts.
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Where. Is. He? Alphonse repeated, although it sounded more like Don't make me eat your face.
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The worst part was the silence. Death was supposed to be loud — gunshots, explosions, screams and thunder. Not this eerie quiet that wrapped around me like a shroud.
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Come and take your seat, Lady Dorina.
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No they called it the Codex Merlini because it was written by a guy named Ralph.
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To know Pritkin was to want to kill him, but so far I'd resisted temptation.
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I was tops at the Scarlet O'Hara school of emotional distancing. I always thought about the uncomfortable stuff tomorrow, and, as everyone knows, tomorrow never comes.
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There are things we want, and things we may have.... Sanity lies in knowing the difference.
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Stercus Accidit. [barren happens]
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Poireaux vinaigrette aux grains de caviar.” I did a quick translation. “Leeks and fish eggs in vinegar?” He grinned. “It sounds better in French.” Yeah, but did it taste better?
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Mr. Complete Lack of Sympathy
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